


Day's Dawning

by Laineyvb131



Category: Madam Secretary
Genre: Angst and Feels, Angst and Humor, Angst and Romance, F/M, Fluff and Humor, Romantic Fluff, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-08
Updated: 2020-02-08
Packaged: 2021-02-28 06:01:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,061
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22619068
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Laineyvb131/pseuds/Laineyvb131
Summary: Henry and Elizabeth find their way back to each other after the effects of Elizabeth's presidential campaign threaten the foundations of their marriage.
Relationships: Elizabeth McCord/Henry McCord
Kudos: 16





	Day's Dawning

**Author's Note:**

> Originally intended as a companion piece to These Moments We Treasure, this story became an epilogue to All I Wanna Be Is (By Your Side). I’ve left room for Henry’s struggle to continue in that story, and it very well may, but will still end here. You don’t necessarily need to have read either story, but the latter is important to understanding where Henry and Elizabeth are in their relationship at this point. I’ve struggled to create a realistic portrayal of conflict resolution in their marriage. I don’t think they ever quite resolve their major issues, but they always figure out a way through their crises. My perfectionist muse needed those aspects to be accurate, so I spent a good deal of time agonizing over these words, both in context and in editing. The emotional intimacy in their relationship is more intriguing to me than their physical sex life, although both play a role here, as a vital aspect of their communication and connection. 
> 
> Also, randomly, my 12-year old influenced a section of this story. He actually made me laugh hard enough I wanted to memorialize the moment, even if he’ll never know.
> 
> This also contains a tumblr drabble prompt: “Why don’t you appreciate my sense of humor?”
> 
> Once again, Peter Frampton comes through with a title.

Elizabeth stretched languidly as the sun crept into her bedroom window. She stilled her movements as Henry’s arm tightened around her waist, careful not to wake him. Rarely did these peaceful moments occur in their lives, and certainly not recently. 

After her resignation from the State Department, Henry and Elizabeth moved back to the farm house, hoping for a familiar mainstay of stability as they began to plan Elizabeth’s announcement of her presidential candidacy, and later, her campaign. But they’d encountered the complete opposite, as the campaign first consumed the sanctity of their home, then hammered away at the foundations of their marriage. They’d borne heartache and loneliness, hurled angry words and spewed accusations at each other. Reeling from the damage they’d inflicted on their relationship, they struggled to find Henry and Elizabeth again. Now, building on a renewed promise, Saturday mornings were dedicated to their circle of two, time spent without interruptions from the outside world. 

Henry stirred, warm and solid against her back, tucking his chin into the crook of her neck. “Why do I still brace for the phone to interrupt our mornings?” he murmured softly against her ear, his breath fluttering strands of her hair. His voice alone settled Elizabeth, wrapping her soul in a blanket of comfort, and she burrowed deeper into his embrace. 

“The same reason I still reach for it as soon as I wake up. Old habits die hard,” Elizabeth acknowledged. “But not today. I’ve threatened, cajoled, and nearly resorted to bribing Mike to keep the vultures away until noon.” 

Elizabeth chuckled, half to herself, as she recalled their conversation and his ensuing tirade. She supposed she deserved being on the receiving end, at least this once, after letting loose some of her own expletive-laden rants in recent weeks. Mike B had nothing on a frustrated, pissed off Elizabeth McCord. “He grumbled and cursed, but he’s giddy about planning my announcement, and apparently harassing my staff is keeping him enough entertained he acquiesced.”

“I thought his favorite line was ‘it's never too soon, but it can always be too late’.” Henry’s voice warmed with amusement. He tolerated Mike, even liked him most of the time, and acknowledged the man’s value to Elizabeth’s political career. That being said, ‘enthusiastic’ was a mild description of Mike Barnow’s personality. 

“Yeah, well, I told him too soon is before noon, so he’d better adjust his concept of time,” Elizabeth replied firmly. “We’ve come to an understanding of sorts. Although when I left the office yesterday, he was mumbling something about big money not taking the weekend off.” 

Silence stretched for a long moment as Elizabeth closed her eyes tightly, searching for her next words, picking and discarding phrases strewn through the recent emotional minefield of their marriage. She took a deep breath. “I’m sorry about that,” she ventured, haltingly. “Sorry I couldn’t keep all of that,” she waved her hands wildly, stirring dustmotes in the sunbeams, “out of here, away from us.” Elizabeth deliberately kept her words vague, as if lending a voice to the problems provided an opening for those tensions to creep back into their lives. 

Henry captured her hands in his to calm her movements, although his thoughts mirrored hers. They’d never quite resolved the issues that boiled over after Elizabeth dedicated herself to winning the presidency, scalding them both, leaving each really more baffled and hurt than empathetic of each others’ emotions. 

“Don’t be sorry. We both said things, felt things…,” Henry trailed off, surprised at the bite of anger still sharp in his gut.

“But I feel like we never figured it out, Henry, and the last time things got this bad, we didn’t figure it out. For a long time.”

They both were very well aware of the past incidents to which she was referring, in both his career and hers. 

“We always make our way back here, don’t we?” Henry wasn’t sure trusted himself to elaborate, even though he felt she wanted answers he’d already tried to explain, and she’d dismissed.

“So we’re fine, now?” Elizabeth shuffled in Henry’s arms, so she could see his face, her gaze frantically searching his. 

“We’re fine.” And that, at least, was the truth. They’d gotten past fine. They’d get even farther. 

Elizabeth’s brow furrowed, not convinced. “Really fine?”

“Really fine, babe,” Henry insisted, and shoved the resentment away. “I’m having deja vu right now.” He smoothed a hand over his wife’s blonde curls, tucking the tendrils behind her ear, uncovering an expanse of soft skin on which he was suddenly fixated. 

“Stop worrying. Focus on what you need to accomplish.” Henry hooked a finger under the strap of her nightgown, sliding the material out of the way to pepper her shoulder with kisses. “We have, what, two months of this until the madness begins again?” 

Elizabeth tilted her head to give him more access to her neck, and he followed her lead willingly. 

“Probably less than that on Mike’s current timeline, because of that whole ‘too soon’ thing, but for now, I can still use the excuse that I’m planning our strategy from here.” Elizabeth shivered as Henry’s lips trailed up her sensitive skin, nibbling on her earlobe. 

“Strategy meaning date night, right?” Henry sounded skeptical. “I thought we’d resolved allowing campaign strategy at the farmhouse, considering how well that worked.” His heart clenched slightly at the memories, and he tried to bury the hurt that hadn’t quite healed. 

“We did. We have,” Elizabeth reassured him, not missing the quick flicker of pain in his eyes. “But no one needs to know exactly what we’re discussing.” She kissed him gently, lingering to soothe, hating the part she played in his heartache. “Date night can involve a myriad of strategies.” She winked saucily, as if alluding to a secret only the two of them knew.

Henry relaxed with a grin, his fingers caressing her jawline. “Unless you’re still planning to ride into a rally on an armored rhino, I don’t think The Black Panther and excessive amounts of popcorn qualify as campaign strategy.” Henry didn’t bother to hide his resignation of his wife’s eclectic obsessions. 

“Too much popcorn will never be a thing.” Elizabeth rolled to her back, and Henry shifted to make room for her. “I still think a rhino is a great idea,” Elizabeth insisted, marveling at the cinematic creativity. “You can’t tell me that wasn’t cool.” 

Henry’s eyes twinkled with merriment. “As long as you wear a skin tight suit while fighting for democracy, I’m all for it. The skimpier the better.” He paused, considering, as he ghosted his fingertips along Elizabeth’s thigh. “You’d get attention, that’s for sure.”

Elizabeth snickered, and smacked the flat of her hand against his chest. “I don’t need a stylist for my campaign, apparently, since I have you.” She made an ‘x’ in the air with her index finger. “Cross that off the budget. Anything else on your wishlist?” She raised an eyebrow, while tapping her fingers against his breastbone.

“Knee high boots. Those are pretty sexy.” Henry touched his thumb to his fingers as he ticked off his list. His eyes narrowed as he mentally dressed- or undressed- his wife. “Maybe a lasso.” He laughed as Elizabeth’s elbow connected with his ribs, and tickled her belly in retaliation. “Didn’t you have a Wonder Woman costume for Halloween one year? That’s keeping with the ‘saving the world’ theme, don’t ya think?”

Elizabeth rolled her eyes, then actually considered his question. “Well, a superhero costume might be more publicly acceptable for a presidential candidate than sexy lingerie.” She glanced down at the blue satin and lace. “I can’t exactly wear this to shake hands and kiss babies.”

“I always appreciate this date night outfit, if no one else will.” He turned his attention back to the delectable spanse of Elizabeth’s chest, tracing her lacy bodice with his lips. “I’ll appreciate the superhero costume even more.” Elizabeth felt his lips curve against her skin. 

“No one else better appreciate my outfit. That’s the last thing I need.” Her laugh became a moan as Henry’s mouth reached her collarbone. “Although Mike still wants me to be more exciting than ‘the nice lady in glasses’, I’m not sure he’s going for risqué.”

“How about the sexy lady in glasses? That’s my personal favorite.” The timbre in Henry’s voice deepened as he visualized his wife in his fantasy. “A blazer.” He nibbled the tendons in her neck. “Black stilettos.” A slight nip of teeth. “And a tiny, black, lacy thong.” His tongue traced the shell of her ear. 

Elizabeth trembled slightly, as her eyes dipped closed, before she could gather herself to respond. “Nope. Not happening.” Elizabeth deadpanned, huskily, although, maybe, just maybe, she’d surprise him one day. “Not for burgers and bowling or hob-nobbing with the deep pockets at fundraising dinners.” 

Henry shrugged, feigning disappointment, but mentally filing away the image for another time. “The options for burgers and bowling are limited out here in the country, but we can Netflix and chill since Mike made sure the WiFi actually functions now.”

“Um, babe, Netflix and chill?” She propped herself on an elbow as she stared wide-eyed at her husband in disbelief. “Really? You know what that means, right?”

“Yes,” he answered, almost as if he came by the knowledge reluctantly. “We have teenagers. Had. I try to follow along.”

“Just checking.” Elizabeth flopped back on the mattress. “We still have teenagers.” She jabbed her index finger at her husband. “ Barely,” she sighed. “Don’t make us older than I already feel.” 

“We’re not old,” Henry protested. 

Elizabeth snorted. 

“What? We’re not,” he insisted, rather vehemently. “I’m going to die on that hill of denial. You agreed with me not too long ago, if I remember correctly.”

“We also agreed we’d come back to the bucolic life when we’re old,” Elizabeth reminded him in turn. “We’re at the farmhouse now, aren’t we?”

“Nope. Doesn’t count.” Henry shook his head. “Retirement was the insinuation. This is definitely not retirement.”

“Well, I still feel old,” Elizabeth lamented.

“Please stop using the word ‘old’,” Henry begged, a grimace marring his features.

“Fine. Maybe disconnected is a better word,” Elizabeth conceded. She huffed out a breath. “Blake decided I should be caught up on the latest lingo so I can appeal to the next generation. I’m not sure I want to know what most of the ‘hip’ phrases mean.”

Henry quirked an eyebrow at the word ‘hip’.

“Well, he actually used the words ‘lit’ and ‘straight fire’,” Elizabeth clarified. “The former I got. Kind of. The fire thing, not so much. And I don’t think ‘Gucci’ actually meant the designer. I was completely lost at that point.” She rubbed her eyes with the heels of her hands, then blinked again, as if doing so would provide some clarity. 

“He also updated the music playlists on my phone. ‘Old Town Road’ is kinda catchy,” she admitted. 

“I’m not sure I know that one, although I might have heard it.” Henry thought for a moment. “Jason played something about ‘The Git Up’ in the car the other day. He swears the dance to the song is the ultimate way to get chicks.” 

“Really?” Elizabeth scoffed, whether at the derogatory slang, or at her son’s dating technique, she wasn’t sure. 

“According to him, it is,” Henry clarified, with a ‘don’t-blame-the-messenger’ shrug. 

“Good thing you already have a chick, so you don’t have that problem.” Elizabeth glowered at her husband, only half in jest. 

“I prefer the tango, anyway.” Henry backtracked to assuage his wife’s ire. 

“Should we be worried?” Now Elizabeth was serious. 

“About the tango? Or Jason?” Henry asked. “Our son dances about as well as his mother does said tango, so no, I don’t think so.” Henry deliberately misunderstood her concerns about Jason and his interactions with girls. He honestly didn’t want to think about the subject more than he had to. 

“That’s the last time I dance with you, then, smart ass.” Blue ice flashed fire as she glared at him. 

Henry wasn’t quite sure she was joking; he knew better than to test Elizabeth’s poker face. “I take back everything I just said.” Henry enfolded Elizabeth in his embrace, as he nuzzled his face into her hair and tucked her into his body. “I’d rather slow dance than tango,” he whispered seductively, linking their arms to mimic a dance hold. “With my favorite chick, who is actually fantastic at the horizontal tango.”

Elizabeth burst into laughter, forgetting her brief outrage. “That’s the horizontal mambo, you dork,” she corrected him, between fits of giggling. “I’m pretty sure that phrase is lost on this generation.”

“Now we have Netflix and chill.” Henry wiggled his eyebrows with a cheeky grin. “We did the Netflix last night. I’m hoping for the chill today. Or the mambo. Either one.” His expression was all hopeful pleading. “Whatever works, really.” 

“You might get lucky, assuming Mike really believed my threats,” Elizabeth confirmed when she finally caught her breath. 

Henry propped his head on his hand, to better enjoy Elizabeth’s laugher. He’d never tired of seeing her smile. “I’ve got plenty of time to get lucky. I’m supposed to be helping the first female president of the United States win over the masses.” 

“I’m not sure POTUS really meant date night or sex when he accepted those reasons for your resignation, but then again, he knows us pretty well.” Elizabeth wasn’t the slightest bit embarrassed at the possible reality of that conclusion. They’d never bothered to hide their affection, much to their children’s dismay, and certainly weren’t ashamed of loving each other. 

“Conrad also knows the realistic demands on the spouse of a presidential candidate, so he can foresee the inevitable.” Henry’s words held no censure or accusation. He’d finally reached acceptance, for the most part. 

“I didn’t tell Matt you were editing my speeches here, too,” Elizabeth admitted sheepishly. “I thought he might actually explode into tiny little pieces of anxiety if he knew.”

“Let’s leave Matt out of the editing. I want to edit you all by myself.” Henry nipped at her bottom lip, tugging until Elizabeth moaned softly.

“You can edit me any time you want to, babe.” Elizabeth threaded her fingers through the hair at the nape of his neck, and pulled Henry back in for a more thorough kiss of her own. 

When they broke apart, breathless, Henry remarked, “if only the current generation were as witty with their euphemisms for sex as we are. Maybe I should give up my career for standup comedy instead. You could join me. We could be like Lucy and Ricky.”

“Yeah, that’s an effective campaign strategy.” Elizabeth snickered. “Standup night instead of debates.”

“Why don’t you appreciate my sense of humor?” Henry asked. 

“I’ve told you many times, babe- I am the only one who thinks you’re funny, and that’s because you made babies with me.” Her lips twitched at his indignance. 

“I think it's a great idea,” Henry replied. “Why are you running for president again anyway?”

“I heard it comes with a chef. And a bowling alley in the basement.” Elizabeth shot up in bed, nearly smacking Henry’s chin with her forehead. “Oh, hey! That’ll make bowling and burgers a lot easier.” Her grin widen as she contemplated her sudden revelation. “I might even be able to wear this.” She sobered almost immediately as she realized what Henry had said. “I don’t want you to give up your career for me.”

“Bad choice of words.” Henry sat up next to his wife. “I’m not giving up anything. It’ll be a different career. Adds a little panache to my resume.” He caressed her arm, shoulder to wrist. “I promised you I’d be the man beside the woman, remember?”

Elizabeth pushed aside the duvet and shifted to her knees to face him. “I couldn’t do this without you.”

“Sure you could. You can do anything.” And there it was again, his unwavering belief in her, despite everything they’d been through, because of everything they were. Elizabeth wasn’t sure how much she believed in God, or a higher power, but she knew she had a miracle in her arms. 

“I wouldn’t want to do this without you,” Elizabeth declared, tension creeping into her voice. “I didn’t realize how much I was just spinning, until everything suddenly got so bad.” Her fingers twisted in the lace edging her nightgown. 

“I know I’ve said this before, but this is big. Bigger than Secretary of State. Bigger than…,” Elizabeth trailed off, still not willing to lend voice to the demons that nearly tore apart their marriage. 

“I’ve already lost control once, and we’ve barely gotten started.” Elizabeth blinked back tears, her face twisting with anguish. Her breath caught in her throat, and then in a shaky voice, her thoughts suddenly exploded into words, as if she couldn’t contain her fears any longer.

“What if it happens again? We’ll even lose Saturdays once the campaign really starts rolling. I’m going to be pulled in a thousand different directions. And if we get to the White House, Henry, I can’t just take a break when the entire country is depending on me to lead.”

Henry was startled at the stark shift in his wife’s demeanor. He certainly didn’t expect Elizabeth to directly address the major concern they’d been tap-dancing around for months. He laid both his hands flat on hers, to stop her from fidgeting. 

“I-“, he faltered, then forced himself to meet Elizabeth’s gaze. Tears shimmered like diamonds on her lashes, and as he watched, one fell, slowing trailing down her cheek. That single tear tore at his heart, but he couldn’t ignore his own lingering pain. 

“I don’t know, babe. To be honest, that’s what I’m most afraid of. We have no idea what to expect over the next year, and I don’t want to feel that way again.” Henry’s voice crackled with remnants of bitterness he couldn’t quite conceal. 

“All we can do is keep trying,” he offered, despite his inner turmoil. “We’ve gotten through worse, and we can again.” Henry slid his fingers to Elizabeth’s wrist, rubbing his thumb over her father’s watch, his promise to her. 

“But I caused it this time, Henry.” She looked down at their hands, flashing back to the days she thought she’d lost that watch, when their lives seemed so desolate. “I got so caught up in everything, and neglected us. I didn’t make you a priority. I just let it happen and didn’t do anything to stop it.” 

Elizabeth had never spoken those words out loud, even during their most heated arguments. Henry didn’t realize how much he needed her admission until that moment, to finally release the last dregs of anger in his heart. 

Realization dawned on Elizabeth’s face as she mulled over her own declaration. She knuckled her tears away with the hand not holding his, watching closely for Henry’s reaction. 

“I promised you I’d always make time for us.” Henry drew Elizabeth’s hand to his lips, kissing her fingers, then the watch itself. “Let that promise remind you, too. And when it doesn’t, I will.” 

“Netflix and chill once a month. More if I can earn some priority on Madam President’s schedule.” He gently wiped her tears with his thumb. 

“Just please don’t actually put that phrase on my calendar,” Elizabeth begged, oblivious to his banter. “Don’t use the word editing, either. Matt might actually show up,” she warned him. “Burgers and bowling sounds so much less innocuous.” 

“Burgers and bowling, it is. So we have a code word. Just like superheroes.” 

When Elizabeth didn’t laugh as he expected, Henry continued. “Tell you what. We both promise to show up. If we’re tired, or busy, or angry, we always show up. And that time is ours. Thirty minutes, an hour, whatever we can get. No technology, no outside interruptions. We can read, or play scrabble, or just sit in silence and hold hands. We can even chill.” He winked, and this time, got the response for which he’d hoped. 

“Okay.” Elizabeth replied with one word, but her smile said everything she hadn’t, and the kiss she gave him said even more. 

Henry drew her back down onto the bed, her back against his chest, secure in his embrace. He stroked her stomach, his fingers gliding over the satin of her lingerie, both soothing and arousing, and Elizabeth’s anxiety began to fade.

‘“In here, it’s just us. We’ll face the world soon enough, and we’ll do it together.” Henry knew she needed his affirmation, and for the first time in a long while, he could provide it for her honestly. 

Elizabeth twined her fingers with his, drawing their joined hands to rest between her breasts, over her heart. “I need to hear you say it again. Promise me we won’t lose us.” 

“We won’t.” Henry kissed her hair. “We haven’t yet.” Henry’s promise was as steadfast as it had always been, given without reservations. “I won’t let that happen.” 

“I love being your wife. Even if I’m elected--” 

“When,” Henry interrupted. 

“Even if,” she emphasized the words again, “I’m elected president, Mrs. McCord will always be my favorite title. The one I care about the most.” Her convictions from their past echoed in the present. “I would give up this campaign in a heartbeat if it threatens what we have together. I would retire right now, here with you, whether we are old or not.”

They both knew hidden scars still existed, both harbored fears their commitment to each other might not be enough, that one day they’d face a challenge impossible to surmount. And yet, somehow, they always found the strength to cling together until the nightmares passed. 

Elizabeth tried to roll face him, but Henry stopped her with his hand on her hip. “No, not yet. Just let me touch you. We’re in no hurry.” He brushed his palm down her thigh, tucking her knee back over his leg, opening her to him. She’d not bothered with underwear, and his fingers could roam unheeded over the soft, silky expanse of her skin.

Elizabeth exploded in contradictions as Henry built her pleasure. She wanted to beg him to finish her, but bit her lip to keep the words from escaping. Goosebumps dotted her tingling skin, as her neck glistened with sweat. Her breasts were full and heavy, while her body flew in euphoria. His hands grazed over satin, teased under lace, the fabric enhancing the sensations he created within her. 

Desire fired low in her core, an all-consuming passion Henry stoked from intimate knowledge of her body. When his fingers finally pierced her slick, throbbing heat, the pleasure peaked and crested on a wave.

“Henry.” 

His name was a husky prayer in the quiet as Elizabeth trembled in his arms. Her muscles clenched around his fingers as he held them still inside her, cupping her sex. The heel of his hand pressed against her clit, drawing out her orgasm. Her torso stiffened under the endless onslaught, and she gripped his wrist, pushing his hand more firmly against her flesh, until she whimpered and went limp. 

He pulled his fingers away, pushing his boxers low enough to free himself. He reached around between her legs again, guiding his erection inside her body in one fluid motion. They sighed, finally fully connected again after so much time apart. 

Then Henry cradled her against his chest, and rolled them both, so he was on his back, and she was laying on top of him. 

“I’m going to crush you,” Elizabeth protested. 

“No, you’re not. Trust me.” Before Elizabeth could move, Henry tightened his arms around her and adjusted their position ever so slightly. 

Elizabeth gasped as the head of his cock rubbed against the sensitive nerves in her core, and her hips jerked almost of their own accord. 

“God, babe, I’m so deep. You feel so good.” His groan echoed against her ear, low and guttural.

Henry’s embrace held them close, their bodies undulating together in small, tantalizing motions. Elizabeth reached up and back, tangling her fingers in his hair; her other held onto his forearms, banded under her breasts. Time seemed to stop while they lay together, recreating all the moments they’d lost, consumed by passion they could bring to each other. 

Suddenly, Elizabeth pleaded, “Henry, I need to- please-.” 

“Here, bend your knees.” As she did, Henry cupped her hamstrings, helping her fold her legs up into her body. He let her down gently, until the soles of her feet touched the blanket on either side of his body. 

“That’s it,” Henry encouraged, tracing his fingertips along her thigh, over the jut of her pelvic bones, into the crease between her leg and groin. He twined Elizabeth’s fingers in his, drew their joined hands to where he pulsed heavy inside her. Her breathy little sigh nearly shattered his control. 

“Now take what you need.” Henry pressed their fingers against her clit, circling the tiny little nub before letting her take over. His hands gripped her waist, pushing her pelvis down as he thrust harder, chasing his own release. Her fingers, wet with arousal, brushed the base of his penis repeatedly as she stroked herself to climax, rocking faster against the motion of his hips.

When Henry raised her above him, Elizabeth cried out as she came again. Her back arched over his bracing hands, hair a curtain of light over her shoulders. He plunged to the hilt once more, then surrendered everything to her. 

Gasping, Elizabeth’s head fell back, heavy on Henry’s shoulder. She could feel him panting beneath her and shifted, afraid he couldn’t breathe with her weight on his chest. 

“No. Stay.” Henry rested his hands low on her belly, anchoring her to him. 

She relaxed again, pulling a pillow under her head to ease the pressure on her neck. As their heartbeats slowed, Elizabeth laid her hands over Henry’s and began playing with his fingertips.

“Henry, there’s something else I didn’t tell you. I should’ve told you sooner than today, and I’ve been neglecting this, too.” Her fingers faltered briefly. 

He kissed her neck, where he could reach from the angle at which they lay, and waited patiently for Elizabeth to continue. 

“I love you.” 

Henry gripped her fingers tightly, squeezing in acknowledgment, and she returned the gesture. 

“I love you. I’ve not told you, either. I promise to never go another day without reminding you how much.” 

Henry gently lifted Elizabeth off his torso as he softened and slipped out of her. She flopped face first on the sheets, too sated to move. Henry’s breathing deepened, and contentment warmed the silence between them. 

“How have we been having sex as long as we have and never tried that position?” Elizabeth propped her head up on her crossed forearms, turning slightly to see her husband.

Henry hummed low in his throat, tucking the pillows back under his head as he tilted his body toward his wife. “Honestly, I thought spicing up our sex life might help, that maybe we were neglecting our marriage because we were bored with each other.” He brushed the hair away from her face, then caressed her torso, neck to tailbone, the palm of his hand splayed wide on her back. 

“I’d never get bored with you, babe.” Elizabeth summoned the energy to kiss his chest, just over his heartbeat. “Besides, we’ll have more excitement than we’ve ever wanted in presidential election, apparently.”

“If recent experience is any indication,” Henry agreed. “I’d prefer adventures in bed with you, though, rather than on the campaign trail.” His fingers lazily drew patterns on her skin. 

Elizabeth’s eyes warmed at his choice of words. “I want more of these adventures. Lots more.” Amidst her enthusiasm, Elizabeth peered at her husband quizzically. “So have you been reading Ally’s Cosmo for sex tips?” 

“What? No. Wait,” Henry sputtered. “Cosmo has sex tips? And Ally’s reading them?” He looked mortified. 

“Mmmm. I don’t know if she is. I might have,” Elizabeth admitted slyly. “Once or twice. Maaayyybee.” 

“I’m still not over catching her coming home from that booty call while you were in Doha.” Henry scrubbed his hand through his hair. “But in full disclosure, I went old school. I found a copy of the Kama Sutra when I was searching for The Prince in the books we moved back from the brownstone.” 

“We have a Kama Sutra?”

Henry nodded. “Yep.”

“Really?” Elizabeth considered the ramifications of Henry’s discovery. “I’m going to focus on the Kama Sutra rather than the implications of you reading Machiavelli.”

“You know how I feel about research, babe.” 

“Hmmm. Yes, yes, I do. You’re very thorough.” Elizabeth caught her bottom lip in her teeth, barely hiding a wicked grin. “No Rules Saturday just might need to make a reappearance, just so that research won’t go to waste.”

“Can we add costumes, then?” Henry’s glee mirrored that of a child on Christmas morning. “You can tie me up with your lasso of truth.”

“Only if you’re geeking out over ancient manuscripts, wearing nothing but your glasses.” Elizabeth sat up slightly to draw her lingerie over her head, dropping the fabric in a silky puddle at their feet. When she reached for Henry, he was as naked as she, and she purred at the expanse of skin bared to her touch. 

“Forget the costumes. I just want to see you naked, every day for the rest of my life.” Her eyes sparkled, blue diamonds in the sunlight, and she stretched out over him. Their bodies touched everywhere- her breasts pressed to his chest, hips cradled in his pelvis, feet tucked between his. She propped her chin on her hands crossed over his heart. 

“I seem to remember that part of our vows. Not the naked part. That was in the non-PG version.” Laughter danced in Henry’s gaze before his eyes softened with love. “But the ‘rest of our lives’ part.” 

“I’m in this, babe. Forever.” Not even a promise, just a fact. He cupped Elizabeth’s face gently, thumbs tracing her cheekbones, as if he hadn’t already memorized every one of her features over the past 30 years. 

“It’s going to be a wild ride to The White House, but I’ll go with you always and anywhere, Elizabeth McCord.”


End file.
